


The Brightest Darkness

by ashangel101010



Series: God Hand [1]
Category: Winx Club
Genre: Gen, Helia is strange but a badass, Helia scares Riven, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 16:21:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6964099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashangel101010/pseuds/ashangel101010
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Providence may guide a man to meet one specific person, even if such guidance eventually leads him to darkness. Man simply cannot forsake the beauty of his own chosen path. When will man learn a way to control his soul?" Quote from the "Berserk" manga. In their first meeting, Helia allows Riven a glimpse. Within that glimpse, Riven realizes how much he dislikes Helia's eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Brightest Darkness

The Brightest Darkness

*

Suggested Theme:

Main Theme- Rain from Cowboy Bebop

*

            Riven is standing on a condemned building’s rooftop, watching two brawny guards catcalling females that are walking by. He didn’t want to watch a couple of muscular perverts not doing their job of being guards, but he has no choice. It is his job to evaluate a Specialist, to make sure that the prodigal son still has the skills. Riven does not expect much from the art school dropout because of the picture that Saladin gave him. The picture has a delicate-looking man with long, black hair and soft, blue eyes. In Riven’s opinion, Helia looks more suited for his art than to be a Specialist.

Helia’s “first” mission is quite simple. All he has to do is get some files from the building which the lascivious guards are watching. Riven can easily do this with his hands tied behind his back. Yet, he doubts Helia can accomplish that. Art schools do not have a curriculum based on close combat and espionage. Riven expects Helia will probably get a broken bone or two from this mission. If it appears that Helia could suffer worse injuries, then Riven will just step in and save the artist’s life. And then fail him in the evaluation.

Helia decides to show up after nearly an hour after Riven arrived. The artist is wearing a black turtleneck and loose, black pants with black gloves and high-heeled boots. If Riven didn’t knew that Helia is a male, then he might have found Helia attractive. Although, a part of him still does. Helia is walking past the guards and throws them a sultry wink. He is clearly playing a whore and wants to lure one, or even both, of the guards away from their post. Riven has to give points to Helia for being resourceful enough to use his effeminate looks like that.

Helia turns around and walks backward, wanting to reach the back alley. The guards quickly play a quick game of rock-scissors-paper to decide which one of them will be Helia’s first john. A bald guard with black sunglasses wins and immediately follows Helia to the back alley. Riven can tell that this guard may be lazy, but he has enough muscles to squeeze a man’s head off. The back alley is appropriately secluded for those looking for a quickie. The guard asks about the price, while Helia moves close enough to have his hand touch the guard’s chest and to whisper in his ear. Riven’s stomach lurches because he doesn’t want to witness this. He has seen enough of “this” in the streets of his childhood.

Helia wraps his deceptively, lithe arms around the lecherous guard. Out of the corner of Riven’s raven eyes, he can see green wires coming from Helia’s gloves. The guard does not notice immediately until the wires encircle his neck. The wires constrict like snakes trying to break their prey’s spine. Helia quickly steps away from the guard who is trying to rip the wires. However, the wires hold like they are anchored to the pervert’s skin. The guard then tries to scream to get his partner’s attention, but the wires become tighter as Helia pulls without breaking a sweat. Helia pulls even harder and his wires cut deeper into the bruised neck. The guard is clawing at the sky, looking into Helia’s eyes for some mercy. Helia does not relent, and Riven watches as the guard finally gives into oblivion. Helia retracts his wires and walks away from the guard, not even bothering to check if his opponent is alive. Riven follows Helia because his evaluation is not done. And he would rather not be part of a crime scene.

Helia’s outfit allows him to camouflage in the shadows of the night. Helia languidly stalks in the darkness, careful to cloak his presence from the remaining guard. The guard suspects nothing, but looks annoyed about waiting for his turn with the whore. Helia’s wires shoot out from the darkness and wrap around the guard’s neck. The guard is then dragged into the shadows before he could fully process what just happened to him. Again, the guard is strangled like the other guard. And like the other guard, he again claws at the air and ground until he passes out. Or at least, Riven hopes that the guard is just unconscious.

Helia retracts his wires and heads to the door. Riven can see that the door requires a key, but he didn’t see Helia search the bodies for the key. Instead, Helia grips the doorknob and pulls the handle out like the door was made of butter rather than metal. Riven cannot see what Helia is doing in the office because there are no windows in the shady building. He does not hear any sounds or shots being fired that would suggest Helia is in danger. Within two minutes, Helia comes out with some files, most likely the ones that the mission required. It only takes a total of ten minutes, if Riven excludes the hour which he had to wait for Helia to show, for the artist to complete his mission. Now, all Riven has to do is leave before-

Helia instantly turns his head and sharp eyes onto Riven’s location. Riven ducks down in hopes to avoid being noticed, but he can still see Helia’s eyes. Those eyes were silently saying, “I see you. I see you in the darkness. I see you hiding from my gaze. I see all of you.” Riven looks away because he feels like that he is moments away from being killed by an assassin. When Riven finally looks back, he can see Helia walking further into the darkness of the night. Riven is unsure whether Helia is going to Red Fountain, or if the “artist” is going to find more victims. The magenta-haired Specialist’s evaluation is done. Helia has accomplished his mission. Riven is going to tell Saladin of this, while leaving out the potential body count. He does not want Helia’s attention.

*

Once Riven reported of Helia’s success to Saladin, he goes to bed. His dreams are dark and unsettling. Helia is in them, strangling a woman with his wires. Riven believes that woman may be his mother because of her magenta hair, but he cannot accurately recall her face. He can only recall her last action, the act of her leaving him to fend for himself. He cannot see Helia’s face for the darkness was clinging to his skin, leaving the sharp eyes as a light in the darkness. After four hours of waking from these disturbing dreams, Riven decides to take a walk.

It is daybreak; the morning sun is bathing the courtyard in scarlet and copper like an unstitched gash. Riven is fairly confident that he will not encounter any Specialists this early unless they were coming back from a night with an Alfea Fairy. He likes to believe that Helia wouldn’t be here because the artist is still roaming in the darkness. Maybe reading through the files to see what benefits he reaped from those corpses. However, Riven comes across a person that he would have rather not ever meet again.

Helia is lying under a tree with a sketchbook in his lap and a pencil in hand. He is not dressed in black, but in a light-green tunic and white pants. His hair is pulled in a low ponytail, giving him the appearance of someone quite controlled. Rather than a slinky assassin who has a strangulation fetish. Riven is about to turn and walk back to his room, but Helia spots him first.

“I thought everyone else was asleep at this time. Did you get back from a night with your girlfriend?” Riven is struck by how similar Helia’s thinking is to his own, except more cleaned up. Riven has Helia’s attention.

“I just wanted to walk.” Riven knows that the best lies are using as much as the truth as possible. Helia smiles like he might accept Riven’s half-truths.

“It is a nice morning for a walk. My name is Helia. What is your name?” The way Helia asks, almost frustrates Riven. He knows that Helia saw him. Riven felt those blue eyes dissecting him, memorizing him. Or maybe Riven is being too paranoid. Red Fountain isn’t ruthless like the streets, but Helia seems to be. Maybe the artist came from a family of assassins or something. If that were the case, they wouldn’t be having this conversation. Assassins don’t leave witnesses.

“I’m Riven. Where are you from?” There are Realms known for having and protecting assassins. Maybe Helia is from one of those Realms. Maybe he was just a failed assassin that decided to be a Specialist for a bit, but realized how similar it was to his old line of work and quit. Only came back to finish what he started.

“I’m from Linphea. Where are you from?” That’s odd, Riven thought. Very few Linpheans actually attend Red Fountain because the school was considered a bit too violent. Linphea practically encourages pacifism. However, there are exceptions like Saladin. And it seems Helia too.

“The streets.” It’s an uncomfortable and honest answer that most won’t further inquire about.

“I hear that you are the best when it comes to strategy and stealth. Do you believe that’s true?” If Helia asked, “Is it true?” then a fight might have occurred because Riven finds those kind of questions condescending. Yet, Helia decides to word it carefully enough to not start a fight. It could be that he is a pacifist. Or he’s slyly mocking Riven for last night. Helia’s eyes are not as intense as last night.

“Yes. Who told you?” Maybe he’s friend with a Specialist currently going here. Helia wasn’t here when Riven started at Red Fountain.

“My grandfather, Saladin.” Riven nearly chokes on the air like those guards. Helia doesn’t come from an assassin family. He comes from a family with a long, ancient lineage of warriors. Even the women are fighters. Saladin’s family is the unofficial army of Linphea. And Helia is the latest apple to fall from the warrior tree.

“I am not what I outwardly portray.” Helia’s words sound like a line from a poem or a stupid love song about betrayal. Or Helia is confirming that the person last night is his true self. Riven wants to tell him to stop being so damn cryptic, but the silhouette appears in his mind. Green wires hold back his tongue.

“Well, it was nice meeting you. I have to go meet my grandfather for discussion. I do hope we meet again.” Helia rips out a page from his sketchbook and leaves it on the ground where he sat. He swiftly leaves as though he’s late with meeting his grandfather. Riven is sure that sketch is for him. Why else would Helia leave it behind? He’s pretty certain that recycling is also stressed in Linphea.

Riven picks up the sketch. The sketch is of Helia. In the background, the sun is blazing behind Helia’s body, almost giving him a demonic halo. Helia is made of layers of black and white. There is no gray. Riven has never shown any interest in art. As a thief, he would just sell the art and not thought twice about. However, this sketch holds some sort of meaning. Is this Helia’s view of the world? Of himself? Is it some of split personality thing? Or maybe it’s a reference to last night? Helia seems quite cozy in the shadows. Yet, Helia, the one he just met, seems to bask in the sunlight.

“Who are you?” Riven asks, almost expecting a reply from the sketch itself. It’s almost comforting like the sketch is proof that Riven isn’t being paranoid. Last night really happened. Yet, it’s a secret. It is Helia’s secret. Riven understands that Helia is sharing his secret with him. Riven will keep this secret for Helia. Keeping secrets is a form of trust. He pockets the sketch and chooses not to look at it anymore after glimpsing the eyes. The intensity of those eyes have been embalmed by paper and lead. He doesn’t like the eyes.

*


End file.
